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The flashing lights washed the street in red and blue, casting shifting shadows across the pavement. The call had been minor. A shorted transformer behind a strip mall, mostly noise and smoke, no injuries, no real damage. The kind of thing that would barely make a line in a report but still pulled everyone out of bed just the same.
Athena stood near her cruiser, arms crossed, watching as the LAFD began to pack up. The wind tugged gently at her hair, and she tucked a strand behind her ear with a sigh. It had been a long week. A longer month. She couldn’t remember the last time she and Bobby had slept under the same roof, let alone shared a meal that wasn’t hastily microwaved leftovers at odd hours.
Her eyes moved over the crews wrapping up hoses, shutting compartments, calling in status updates. She spotted Bobby in the middle of it all, head bent in conversation with one of his guys. Even from a distance, she could see the weight in his posture. Not from stress exactly, but from sheer exhaustion. It had been a brutal stretch for both of them, but especially him.
He'd been picking up extra shifts, covering gaps left by whoever had called out or been forced onto leave. That was Bobby. He stepped in. Always.
When he looked up and saw her, the corners of his mouth turned up instantly in a tired, but genuine smile. Athena felt it like a pull in her chest. God, she missed him.
She crossed the lot without a word, and he met her halfway.
“Hey you,” he said, voice low and warm.
“Hey yourself,” she murmured, her tone carrying a hint of smile as she reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze.
They stood close, tucked just out of the way of the wrapping scene. The flashing lights pulsed in the background, but here in their little pocket of quiet, time seemed to slow. It had been days since they'd had more than five minutes alone thatdidn’t involve a rushed goodbye or a mumbled goodnight.
“You heading out?” he asked.
“Just waiting on final sign-off from the techs. Shouldn’t be more than a few minutes.”
He nodded. “We cleared ten ago. Just making sure gear’s squared away.”
“I’ve missed you,” Bobby said quietly, eyes on hers.
Athena smiled. “I know. I’ve missed you too.”
She studied him for a beat. The faint shadows under his eyes, the way he rolled his shoulder like he couldn’t quite get the ache out. “You’re running on fumes.”
“So are you,” he said, but there was no pushback in it. He was stating a fact.
“I know,” she said softly. “But you especially. We haven’t even crossed paths at home this week. You get in, I’m heading out. It’s been a minute since we’ve even sat down in the same room.”
His expression softened at that. “I know. Tomorrow…” He glanced toward the rig, then back at her. “I’m off by morning.You’re done around noon, right?”
“Yeah. If nothing else gets dumped on my plate.”
He smiled – just a ghost of one. “Then I’ll wait for you at home.”
“You don’t have to,” she said, gently. “You’re gonna be dead on your feet.”
“I want to.” His voice was low, steady. “I want to see you. Actually see you. It feels like we’ve been missing each other in our own house.”
Her expression melted, her hand finding his again and giving it a small squeeze. “Okay,” she whispered. “Noon.”
“Noon,” he echoed.
She leaned in and kissed him. It was a soft press of lips, warm and familiar. When she pulled back, he lingered for a beat, forehead nearly resting against hers.
“Home safe,” he murmured.
“Home safe,” she echoed.
---
The front door gave its usual soft creak as Athena stepped inside, balancing her bag over one shoulder. She paused in the entryway, the weight of her shift finally lifting with the familiar scent of home.
She glanced down. Bobby’s to-go bag sat by the door, untouched. A little puff of relief settled in her chest. He was home. That was the only thing she’d really needed.
“Bobby?” she called gently, not too loud. No answer.
She slipped off her shoes, dropped her keys into the ceramic dish by the door, and padded into the house. No sign of him in the kitchen or the living room.
She turned down the hall and instinctively slowed her steps as she reached the bedroom. The door was ajar. Sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains inside, soft and golden across the hardwood floor.
Athena stepped in and stopped short.
There he was. Her big strong fireman, sprawled across her side of the bed, half-buried in her pillow like it was the only soft place in the world. His back rose and fell in the slow rhythm of deep sleep, one foot barely tucked beneath the covers like he hadn’t even meant to crawl in properly.
Her heart swelled at the sight.
She studied him, this beautiful, stubborn man of hers. He looked so peaceful. So still. There was something childlike in the way he slept. Like the weight of the world had finally let go of him, if only for a little while. The gentle rise of his shoulders, the slack line of his jaw, the way his mouth was just barely open. All of it made something tender bloom in her chest.
Quietly, she leaned against the doorframe. No rush to move, no reason to speak. Just her husband, asleep in their bed, wrapped in the scent of her pillow like it anchored him. And somehow, that was more intimate than any kiss they’d shared all week.
Athena moved quietly across the room, each step slow and deliberate. She didn’t want to wake him.
She sat on the edge of the bed first, just watching him breathe for a moment. Then, carefully, she slipped off her jacket and eased herself down into the narrow slice of space beside him. There wasn’t much room – not with the way he’d taken over her entire side – but she didn’t mind. She nestled in close, turning onto her side to face him.
Up close, he looked even softer.
His lashes cast faint shadows against his cheeks. The lines on his forehead, the ones stress always drew so deep, had smoothed out almost completely. She reached up, almost without thinking, and let the tips of her fingers ghost across his brow gently. Her thumb smoothed the space between his eyebrows, then followed the quiet arch of one, then the other. His skin was warm beneath her touch. Familiar.
She lingered at his eyelids next, letting her fingers skim lightly across them. His eyes were closed, of course, but she could picture them anyway. That hazel-gold with the faintest flecks of green that always seemed to glow when the light hit just right. Those eyes had seen so much pain, carried so much weight. But when they looked at her, they always softened.
She let her touch skim the slope of his nose, then trace down the side of his face, her fingers mapping the curve of his cheek, the solid edge of his jaw. There was a softness to his face that surfaced whenever he smiled, apple cheeks lifting, making him look almost boyish, irresistibly cute. But when his expression settled, those same features sharpened into something more defined, more striking. He was all angles and depth, and still somehow, he looked impossibly kind.
God, he was beautiful.
Her fingers drifted lower, pausing at his mouth.
His lips – full, soft, slightly parted in sleep. Her favorite part of him. They were what she noticed first, always. The way they broke into a smile every time he looked at her like she was his whole damn world, the way they brushed against her skin with such reverence, the way they kissed her like she was something sacred. Those lips had whispered confessions into her neck, pressed promises to her palms, grinned against her mouth like there was nowhere else he’d rather be. And every morning, no matter how early, they left a kiss on her shoulder before he slipped away. A quiet ritual, tender and constant.
She could’ve kissed him right then and there. But she didn’t. Not yet.
Instead, she let her hand wander higher, up to his hairline. Her fingers slipped gently into his hair, combing through the soft strands at his temple. It was freshly washed and still smelled like his shampoo, that clean, quiet scent that clung to his pillows and his shirts. How it stayed so soft without conditioner, she would never understand. She let her fingers continue their slow rhythm, brushing through his hair again and again.
And she just looked at him.
This man. Her husband. Her home. Her peace.
Sometimes it still hit her out of nowhere, how lucky she was. How loved. How much of her life had changed because she’d said yes to him, to this, to something softer than she’d ever thought she deserved.
Athena leaned in slightly, her forehead resting just a breath away from his. Her heart felt full in her chest. Quietly overflowing.
Then, beneath her fingers, Bobby stirred.
It was subtle at first. A shift in his breathing, the faintest twitch beneath his eyelids. Then a soft inhale, deeper than the ones before, and his lashes fluttered as he slowly blinked his way back into consciousness.
His eyes found hers almost instantly. And even before they were fully open, he was smiling. That soft, sleepy smile. The one he only ever wore for her.
Athena felt her own smile bloom in return, her heart tugging in that familiar way he always seemed to stir without trying.
“Hi, baby,” she said softly.
Bobby blinked again, slower this time. His smile didn’t fade. If anything, it deepened. “I was gonna wait for you,” he murmured. His voice was hoarse, still half-asleep. “Wanted to stay up.”
“I know,” she said, brushing her thumb across his cheek. “But you needed the rest.”
“Sorry, shouldn’t’ve picked the bed to wait for you,” he mumbled, eyes drifting shut again.
She shushed him with a finger pressed gently to his lips. “You don’t need to apologize. I’m home. You’re home. We’ve got the whole day... and the weekend too.”
At that, Bobby’s features softened even more – if that were possible. His hand came up, slow and steady, and cupped her cheek like she was something fragile. Precious.
“I missed you,” he said, just above a whisper.
Athena’s heart tugged again, hard and sweet. She leaned in without a word, closing the distance between them. It was soft and unhurried, lips brushing his like a promise. “I missed you too.”
Bobby blinked slowly, trying to fight the pull of sleep. “Are you hungry?” he mumbled, voice gravelly and low. “I can make you something. We’ve got eggs… or I could do that pasta you like.”
Athena huffed out a quiet laugh, her thumb brushing just under his eye. “Baby,” she said, her tone fond and amused. “You’re half-asleep.”
“I can rally,” he insisted, though the yawn he barely suppressed betrayed him.
“You can barely keep your eyes open,” she teased. “The only thing you’re cooking is a nap.”
He pouted, his lips slightly pursed as a tiny crinkle appeared between his brows. “I just want to spend time with you.”
That undid her. Utterly.
She didn’t say anything. She just leaned back, lifted his arm, and scooted in until she was tucked against his chest. “Then nap with me.”
Bobby let out a soft sound, something between a sigh and a hum, and curled around her instinctively. One arm draped around her waist, the other resting across her back. Athena fit herself into the crook of his body and sighed, perfectly content.
There was no space left between them. None needed.
She pressed a kiss to the side of his neck, right over the steady beat of his pulse. “Later,” she murmured, lips brushing his skin, “we’ll have dinner. Maybe dance a little in the living room.”
“That evening include anything else?” he mumbled into her hair.
She snorted softly. “You’re incorrigible.”
“But you didn’t say no,” he murmured, smug and sleepy.
She didn’t. Couldn’t. Not to him.
His arms tightened around her, and his breathing began to slow again, deep and even. Athena closed her eyes, letting the warmth of him sink into her bones.
Wrapped around each other in the soft midday light, they both drifted off.
It was the best sleep either of them had had in days.
---
They woke slowly, still tangled together, as the late afternoon sun spilled warm gold through the curtains. No rush. No alarms. Just the comfort of each other and the quiet luxury of time.
Eventually, they made their way to the kitchen, barefoot and soft-eyed, trading lazy smiles and kisses in between chopping vegetables and stirring sauces.
Later, with dinner done and the dishes forgotten, Bobby reached for her hand and pulled her gently into the living room. A vinyl spun something smooth and jazzy in the background.
He didn’t say a word. Just held her close, swaying with her in the middle of the room, his cheek resting against her temple. They danced like that for a long time. Quiet. Safe. Home.
And later still, when the music had faded and the world had gone hushed again, they made love. It was slow and tender, a conversation told entirely in touches. It wasn’t hurried or frantic. It didn’t need to be.
When they finally settled again, limbs tucked together in the quiet dark, Athena brushed her fingers through Bobby’s hair and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth.
Their lives would always be chaotic. Demanding. Pulled in every direction.
But this – them – remained the constant.
They chose each other. Every day.
And they always would.